


Achained

by ThreeBirds



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with no happy ending, But she's a kid so its forgiven, Child Lila Pitts, Dad Number Five | The Boy, Fix-It, Kid Fic, Like ok i love you but i cant believe no one started a dad five tag, Like the ending is happy but it won't be mentioned in the fic, Lila is a little shit, Misleading angst, Number Five | The Boy in an Adult Body, Oh um, Operation (Board Game) - Freeform, SO, Soft Number Five | The Boy, Sorta kinda, Stressed Number Five | The Boy, a little bit, and, oh my god the drought in this fandom, oh! I almost forgot, tw blood, tw death, tw murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeBirds/pseuds/ThreeBirds
Summary: Five doesn't like to think about it, but Lila is a brilliant kid, she's bound to ask questions. He can't avoid it forever.Or:Au where after Five kills Lila's parents he Finds her instead of The Handler, snaps out of it, and takes baby Lila and a briefcase to 2009 to raise her as his daughter
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Lila Pitts
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	Achained

**Author's Note:**

> This, Surprise surprise, is also based off of a tumblr post. Mine, this time. This au is actually more crack/fluff filled, but uh welp the mind wants what it wants.
> 
> Here's the post, it has the au tag in it:  
> https://chocolate-with-raisins.tumblr.com/post/632135605576499200/au-where-after-five-kills-lilas-parents-he-finds

She's seven and they're playing Operation after working out together, still sweating and heaving from the effort, and between huffs Lila wonders out loud, "what are we training for?"

It's not the first time she asks. He's never hurt her, always making sure she's exercising within her limits, but everyone gets tired, and when she did she'd sigh as if the world is on her shoulders and exclaim, "whyyyy" like the dramatic superhero fan she is. Anyway, it's about time he started easing her into the truth. So he picks his words as gently as he reached into the (wildly inaccurate, frankly) stomach butterfly. "Remember how I taught you about organised crime?"

Lila nods. "Mafias and capitalists," she recites.

"right. well," he tries not to let his surge of pride distract him. "I used to know a mafia like that. They have a task force—that's like an army— and they don't like me or my family very much— darn it," he adds, when his hand slips, triggering a buzz from sam's nose.

"So we're training in case they come to hurt us" Lila doesn't quite ask. She picks up a task card ("too much ice cream froze Sam's brain, scoop it out to stop the pain" always sounded a little too ominous in Five's opinion), and that seems to be the end of the conversation for a while.

He barely blinks and she's ten. Her time at school has taught her that bedtime stories are for little kids, but sometimes her fear of the dark gets over that irrational desire all children have to grow up.

"Tell me about the mafia again" she mumbles, face half buried in her batman pillow. "The one you worked in"

He's never told her he worked there. Of course she figured it out, though. Five fidgets with the corner of her blanket, straightening it towards her. He almost thinks she's fallen asleep, maybe he can get away with it— but she kicks his waist gently from beneath the covers. "Please?"

"they're bad guys," he blurts out. It sounds so ridiculously childish, but he's not sure how much he's willing to burden Lila with. How much truth would be too much? Is she ready to face the concept of murder in relation to her father?

Lila doesn't answer, she just turns her giant, star filled eyes at him, like lazer guns of warmth. He melts. "They're a secret organisation, so no one even knows about the bad things they do." He continues, allowing the story to become just that— a story. A fantasy. "That's why when asked me to join them, I didn't know i should punch them in their stupid face," that draws a giggle from her. "They made me— they told me to do bad things."

"why did you listen?"

There are many answers on the tip of his tongue. _I was scared. I was willfully blind. I was stupid._

"I was alone."

Lila's smile is crooked. "Lucky you have me now, so you know not to go back"

"You're like my glasses, showing me the world" he says, although he knows she can't possibly comprehend how much he means it.

"your glasses are ugly"

Five feigns exasperation. "You said they were cool!"

The little shit nods her head in disappointment. "You should've known better than to listen to a child year old"

_"would you look at the time,"_ Five proclaims, because it really is late, she should definitely sleep now.

But if he stays up in his bed for another three hours after Lila finally stills, staring at his hands— clean of blood for years now— wondering for the hundredth time about the life Lila might've had if he left the commission sooner, that's his business.

"Dad?" The almost-teen asks between bites oh her pancakes.

"hmm?"

"who are my real parents?"

He freezes mid flip. The pancake caves into a sad half circle, sizzling in protest. Her voice is slightly muffled when she says, "dad! The pancakes!"

He shakes his head lightly and quickly flips the rest, then brings the fire down and turns his back to the counter, facing her. Part of him wants to ask her why she even cares. A well-trained part of him begins applying a g-rated filter to his memories. And another, smaller part of him whispers, between a split-up tongue and sharp fangs, _you were this age exactly when you ran away._

She can tell something is wrong. No one can read you as well as the person you've raised. "Did i say something wrong?"

"Absolutely not" Five reassured her. "It's normal— expected even, for you to want to know. But you have school, and I have my classes," he knows it sounds like an excuse, so he adds, "so remind me later today."

She probably says yes, because she finishes her pancackes and blinks out the door for school, without asking anymore questions. Five sighs in relief and lets go of the spatula, running his hand over the marks left from his grip on the handle.

After making a cup of coffee— he drinks too much of it, but it's better than smoking— he goes hunting for an empty paper and a working pen. He lied about the classes, but he still has notes to prepare.

"You weren't adopted legaly," Five says, and shit, that was a way better preface when he was practicing in front of the mirror. Now, with Lila sitting on the couch, watching him pace around, hair twirling between her fingers, it seems too blunt.

Lila raises her eyebrow, confused but ever sceptical, and he ignores her reaction. He can't go off-script this early on.

"You parents were Ronnie and Anita Gill. They were killed in 1993, by—" his voice cracks. "—by a commission agent"

Her eyes are piercing and clear when she speaks after a long silence. "A commission agent, like you were?"

"exactly," he says. And it's like a game of chicken. We're both thinking the same thing, who's gonna say it?

He's felt this way before. Usuallywith people who had him at the palm of their hand. People who could sit, unblinking, for days apon days. Who would wait all day if they had too, amplifying the deafening silence until he had no choice but to—

"how did you find me?" She breaks the silence, and Five wants to slam his head through the wall because in this situation _he's_ the experienced figure, and Lila must be terrified. Silence can be worse that screams.

He cannot let her sit in silence. He hears the words rather than feels himself saying them. "you were hidden. You parents knew to protect you" and before his words can fade, before he can change his mind, he tells her about the corrections. He tells her whatever he can— the missions, the briefcases, the math.

He doesn't tell her about the coldness, about the focus on the guns, about the way they were taught to forget the targets were human. He never intends to. She never needs to know.

He doesn't tell her how her parents were killed, either. He doesn't have to.

Lila shows no reaction as he talks, only gently pressing her eyebrows together in concentration. When he's done, she gets up. Her movements are slow and shaky, not that he can blame her. "I'd like to go to my room," she says carefully and God, it hurts. Her eyes are on him, and her stance is defensive. He's the one who taught her how to stand like this—a perfect starting point for a sprint. her legs are slightly too far apart, as always, and she's so painfully familiar but she looks at him as if he's a stranger.

"one last thing," he says, although every cell in his body yells him to shut up. "If—" he swallows, trying to keep his tone businesslike. "If you feel unsafe, you don't need to run." Five hands her a pile of papers he had to sew to keep together. "There's a list of child services and organisations that can help you. I'll support you financially throughout your choice, if you need me to."

He wants to add, _but please, please don't._ He doesn't.

Lila takes the papers and flashes away with a flurry of blue light. The viper in his mind chuckles. _Isn't it ironic?_

It really is almost funny, to think it'd happen exactly on april 1st, 2018.


End file.
